


There's Nowhere I'd Rather Be Than With You

by LarryLashton98



Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, American Revolution, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Deaf Character, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revolutionary War, War AU, fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-03 20:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16333229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarryLashton98/pseuds/LarryLashton98
Summary: Felicity has been gone for a few years, and Percy and Monty weren’t able to rescue her, so she and Johanna have been fending for themselves against Alexander Platt. Suddenly, the girls find themselves in London, and of course, there’s only one place to go.Also, Mackenzi Lee didn’t specify what part of the 1700s the books take place, so this is set in the 1780s!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this sorta happened. How did I write this in a few hours? I have no idea. The idea for this fic came to me as I was writing it? Like it came out of nowhere.
> 
> It's the fourth GGtVaV fic I've started, but the first to finish and post. Maybe I'll get around to the other ones later!

Johanna and Alexander Goddamn Platt got married a few years ago and the two of us, Johanna and I, have been on this ship sailing to England that Dr. Platt has kindly disposed us onto.

We are supposed to arrive in London in a few hours, and I wouldn’t be as furious if I weren’t to be taken from the ship to my father’s front door, who I’ve pointedly been ignoring. Not that it’s been difficult, as he hasn’t even tried to reach out to me.

Johanna and I have been kept in separate rooms, probably to avoid plotting, which makes sense, but at the same times doesn’t. We plotted against him earlier and have outwitted him again and again, but that was when we had a chance to stop him from harming the dragons’ eggs.

We have been doing this sort of dance for a few years now, he’d try to send us home, but we’d find some way to stay around for another few months to a year until he’d get us on our way back to England. This time it seems as though he’s won our little battle, as we are actually arriving in London this time, being kept apart with guards and being taking straight from the docks to our separate locations. Mine being my father’s  _ open _ and  _ loving _ arms.

As it turns out, while I was trying to figure out what I would say to my father and mother when I arrived home, Johanna has been creating a devious plan on her own. When we are on dry land, she punches her escort (read: guard) in the stomach, then the face, and then grabs my hand and runs.

I stumble for a second and my escort (guard) grabs my arm, but I bite where his hand is clasped on my bicep and he yells and let go.

I hold onto Johanna’s hand as we tear down the dock, bumping into people, and sliding between carts and carriages.

“Where are we going?” I gasp out between breaths, want some sort of direction.

“I don’t know, but I figured there’s somewhere where we can hide.”

My mind immediately jumps to Monty and Percy’s flat, and I hope and pray that they’re still living there. It’ll be the second time I barge in without a heads up, though this time is after I’ve run off without saying goodbye and disappeared for a few years.

“This way,” I tug her hand to lead down a street to the left. “My brother hopefully still has a place here.”

I think we’ve lost our pursuers after a few blocks and turns, but we don’t slow down until we’re climbing the stairs to their front door.

“Wouldn’t Monty have gotten the estate?” Johanna heaves through breaths.

“No. Well, he would have if he didn’t run away as I did.”

I’m not sure what to say about Monty and Percy living together. I haven’t told Johanna of their relationship, but I’m sure she’ll be okay with it. Should I mention it? Some kind of warning in case they are up to  _ something _ ? But before I know it, I’m knocking on the door without having said anything.

We stand there panting for a few moments and then the door opens.

I won’t lie, I’m hoping to see Monty opening the door, as I did last time when he pulled me into a hug  which I could use right about now , but instead Percy’s tired face looks back out at us.

I can see the moment he recognizes who is in front of him, for he straightens up and blurts out; “Felicity?” His eyes widen in surprise. They flicker over to my companion, who’s cheeks are red, perhaps from the exertion of running however many blocks, though I don’t think they were that coloured just a few moments ago. “... Johanna?”

Her cheeks go a darker red and as she curtsies, possibly out of habit. “Hello, Percy.” Her voice is high.

“Come in! Come in!” He ushered us in. “Sorry it’s a bit messy, um, really messy, but I wasn’t expecting anyone to visit.”

I wave at him, brushing off his apology as I’m looking for any sign of where my brother is when Percy’s choice of words sink in.

“I? Why I? Where’s Monty?”

Percy purses his lips and says; “Maybe you should sit down.”

“What? No. Where’s Monty?” Percy’s reaction worries me because I have no idea what his expression means.

“Please sit,” he repeats as he sits down in a chair.

They have chairs now, and a table and a few dressers, so boxes are no longer stacked and used as tables and chairs.

I’m reluctant to sit; sitting seems to bring bad news, so I hide my nervousness and sit down firmly, keeping my strict attention on Percy.

“Where’s my brother?” I practically demand it this time and Percy shrinks a little.

“Um, well,” he doesn’t get very far before I cut him off. The drawn-out anticipation is killing me so I say roughly; “Is he alive?”

“Yes.” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding in relief and my body relaxes until Percy continues. “Well, I think so.”

“You  _ think _ so?”

“Last I heard, he was okay. Considering.”

“Percy.  _ Where _ .  _ Is _ .  _ Monty _ .” Percy may be sitting on the opposite side of the table, but that isn’t enough to stop me from climbing over it if he doesn’t answer me right  _ now _ .

He’s staring at me wide-eyed, as though he’s scared of my reaction. “Across the ocean. In America,” he finally says, quietly.

That isn’t quite what I was expecting to hear.

“… I’m sorry, what?”

“He’s in America. We’re losing the war against America, and they were needing more recruits, so he was drafted just over a year ago.” Percy rushed over his words, but I could hear the blatant worry in his voice.

And suddenly, I’m glad I’m sitting down.

“My God!”

I nearly jump at the sound of Johanna’s voice. I’d forgotten that she was there with us.

“Is it that bad over there? I thought Monty was deaf? Are we doing so poorly that they’re taking deaf people now?”

“Half-deaf,” Percy and I mutter at the same time.

“I suppose so, yes, we are doing that poorly. In his last letter, Monty wrote that he doesn’t know how much longer they can hold out.”

“He wrote? Let me see, please,” I’m practically begging, but neither of us mentions it. Percy just stands and walks over to their bedside table and grabs a few pieces of paper laying on top. I stand too, and don’t wait for him to come back to the table, I just take them from him and read them standing there in the middle of the room.

 

_ Dear Percy, _

_ The fighting has gotten worse, and the casualties have gone up considerably on both sides. It was looking positive for a while ~ I heard that one of the American’s generals or whatever went home for a bit. But he’s back now, and he must be devilishly smart, for they’ve outsmarted us time and time again since his return. (Charles just informed me that the man is Alexander Hamilton, an immigrant working for Washington. Why’s he fighting so hard for a country that’s not even his? Crazy man.) We were pushing them back through the city of New York when suddenly they got the overhand and fought back pretty well. Our commander wasn’t too worried until troops sprung up in Chesapeake Bay and bashed us down even further. The blasted Americans. I get that they want their independence, but I can help but feel a bit resentful at the whole situation. I imagine it would be like that for any war, though. Whatever. War is the worst. Seeing people next to you die and wondering if you’re next and shooting at as many enemies as possible. The whole blasted thing is the worst. _

_ Speaking of Charles, he was shot in the leg earlier this week. He keeps complaining about it like I have no idea what it’s like to be shot. Honestly, has he listened to me when I told the story? He asked about my ear ~ or lack of ~ so one would assume he’d remember. Though I suppose being shot is a bitch of a thing, and you can’t focus much on anything but the pain that everything else pales in comparison. I’m just grateful I had you with me as Felicity patched me up ~ the  _ _ doctors _ _ medics here do a shoddy job of healing people, Felicity is much better. If I were to get shot again, I wouldn’t want any of these men to look after me. I wouldn’t be able to get back to England for her to look after me ~ I’d probably die of infection or blood loss or whatever before getting to her. I’d consider bringing her here, but it’s terrible here and I don’t want her anywhere near this mess. I want to keep her as far away from this as possible. I miss her terribly, though. _

 

My heart warms at the thought of Monty being protective of me despite being across the bloody ocean.

 

_ I also miss you terribly, especially at night. I’ve not grown used to sleeping alone, despite the fact that I’ve been here for some time. Though I suppose I don’t get much sleep here. Sleep is far and few during war; did you know that? There’s also so much noise and activity happening. The noise isn’t as much a problem for me as it is everyone else ~ as I’m sure you can figure out why ~ though the explosions of the cannons do a sound job of shaking the ground every time you’re about to fall asleep. I couldn’t even imagine trying to sleep on a ship during battle, being shot at as you’re being contained in a bobbing, wobbling ship in the middle of the ghastly water. I nearly lost my mind on the voyage here. That month was one of my worst yet, and that’s including living with my father. Mindless days in the middle of NOWHERE surrounded by water at all times for a whole month, knowing that you’re being sent into a war we seem destined to lose. _

_ Others seem to be optimistic about our luck, but I severely doubt that is the case. That Hamilton fellow somehow managed to steal some of our cannons and use them against us. How the bloody hell does one STEAL a CANNON??? If he’s commanding troops, I’d rather have him on MY side rather than having to fight the man. I don’t see how there’s any way to beat that man. If it were up to me, I’d just let the colonies go off on their own and get the bloody hell out of here. Nevertheless, His Majesty seems quite intent on keeping them and letting everyone parish in the meantime. _

_ I want to go home. I miss you. _

 

I skip over the part where Monty tells on just how exactly he misses Percy, though thankfully doesn’t go into too much detail. Perhaps he knew that if this letter got into the wrong things, bad things could happen to the two of them.

 

_ I want to be with you and Felicity and not have to worry about keeping myself and my comrades alive as I have to kill as many American soldiers as I can. That alone has to be the worst thing about war; killing people when you don’t want to. Having to kill people who probably don’t want to be in a war either. (Though their fighting for independence from His Majesty, which is something they want.) I want to go back to England and not have to worry about staying alive. Though I wished many times that I was dead when living with father, now that death is a very real possibility I’ve realized that I don’t want to die. I don’t, and I’m terrified that I will before I can see you and Felicity again. _

_ I didn’t mean to write such a depressing letter, so sorry about that. I meant to tell you that I’m okay, and am hoping to come home soon. _

_ I love you. So much. _

_ Yours, _

_ Monty _

_ P.S. If Felicity decides to stop by, tell her I’m sad that I missed her visit and miss her. And that I’m disappointed that she took off without even saying goodbye. And that I’ll kick her arse when I next see her. _

 

There are a few drop of blood on the paper, and I’m worried as to who’s it is. If it’s Monty’s, I pray the injury isn’t serious. Maybe it’s that Charles fellow who was shot. If he told Monty of Hamilton’s name, then Monty would have been with him when writing the letter.

I look up to see both Percy and Johanna watching me.

“Have you heard anything else about when the war might end?”

“Not exactly, no,” he shakes his head. “People are saying ‘soon’ but how soon is soon? I have no idea. I’m’ sorry.”

I slump down in the chair I sat in earlier. “It’s not your fault, Percy.”

“Is Monty okay? In the letter, does he sound okay?” I’m touched that Johanna is concerned about Monty’s wellbeing.

I nod. “He’s worried and scared, but I think he’s okay.”

“Good.”

We sit there in silence for a few minutes before Percy eventually speaks up. “Do you want to go for a walk or to get a drink or something?”

Johanna and I look at each other and shrug. “Sure, why not?”

We stopped by a cute bakery for some muffins and I briefly thought of Callum and wondered how he was doing. We chose to have our muffins in a nearby park where we watch people walk by with children or dogs, or couples by themselves as the sun was out and shining for once.

We catch up on what’s happened since we last saw each other for what seems like hours until we realize that it  _ had _ been a few hours and slowly make our way back to Percy’s and Monty’s flat.

We’re discussing where Johanna and I are going to stay as we get back and sit at the table without breaking conversation.

It’s not until after we were sitting there for a few minutes until Percy looked over my shoulder to the bed and jump up out of his chair.

“Monty!” He shrieked. Zounds, he’s got some lungs.

But that doesn’t matter as I take in the sight of my brother making his way over from their bed to us. I don’t get a very good look, as he immediately flies into Perc’s arms, burying his face into Percy’s chest.

I try to give them their space, but when it seems like neither of them intends to let go anytime soon, I tug on a sleeve that probably belongs to Percy because it’s clean and doesn’t have dozens of holes speckling the material.

“Monty?”

I can practically feel Percy’s reluctance to let Monty go, but when he does, Monty’s eyes meet mine and he throws himself at me with as much enthusiasm as he did Percy.

It seems like forever until we part. Normally, I don’t like hugs, but after missing my brother as strongly as I have and then reading what he’s gone through, I don’t want to let go.

Now that he’s in front of me and not moving I can see the impact of the war on my brother.

He’s gotten incredibly skinny and he has so many little scars all over his arms, neck and face, though I’m sure there are more beneath his clothes. It looks like he’s holding himself up straight from habit, but I can feel the tiredness radiating him in waves. It’s clear in his face just how exhausted he is, yet he still smiles as he leans into Percy’s chest with one hand still holding onto one of mine. I don’t notice that he’s crying until he brushes a tear away.

“I missed you guys,” he whispered quietly, voice quivering with emotion.

“We missed you too.” Percy looks like he’s near tears as he presses a kiss to the top of Monty’s head. “Felicity got back a few hours ago and was demanding to see you until I told her where you were. You didn’t-”

“-When did you get here, Felicity?” Monty interrupted loudly and Percy and I just stare at him for a second; Monty never interrupts Percy.

He must’ve seen the look on my face, for his eyes widen and he turns to look up to Percy. “Oh, sorry! Were you speaking?” He still speaking too loudly and seems genuinely sorry, which is new to hear from my brother. “You’ll have to talk louder. I think my hearing has gotten worse from the cannons and gunshots and explosions and such. Everything is fuzzier and I have a hard time figuring what people are saying, especially if I’m not looking at them.”

Percy looked at him head-on and said louder; “You didn’t write that you were coming home. Why didn’t you write when you found out you were coming home?”

“Oh, I did,” Monty turns away and ruffles through the pockets of his coat thrown on top of his bags and pulls out an envelope. “I was going to send it when they started loading the first group of soldiers on the first ship, and then I got put on the next one, and so there was no way to send it ahead when I was already on a ship setting sail.”

We talk for a bit longer until Monty’s head starts bobbing as he starts falling asleep on his feet. Deciding to call it a night, Johanna and I take our leave to go to a nearby boardinghouse (there’s not enough room for four of us here, and Monty will probably want a night alone with Percy) as Percy gets Monty into bed.

As I’m closing the door, I hear one of them say; “I missed you so much. I love you, I love you, I love you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monty's POV of the next day as he suffers from PTSD :(

They didn’t do much after the girls left. They mostly just cuddled in bed readjusted until Monty was laying on top of him in their usual sleeping positions, kiss, and say over and over how much they missed the other.

Eventually, Monty’s eyes started to drift shut, and, bless his soul, Percy had quietly started talking about nothings without requiring any speaking from him and tracing little patterns on his skin. There were moments when Percy was speaking too quietly for Monty to understand what he was saying, but he didn’t care. He was too tired to even follow what Percy was saying, rather focusing on the sound of his voice and the feel of his body underneath him and his steady heartbeat.

When Monty felt himself drifting off, he let himself go, not wanting to stay awake any longer.

* * *

“Advance!”

While staying low, Monty ran forward with his line, ducking under branches and jumping over logs and roots, careful to keep his gun up and ready to fire.

“Down!”

Monty dropped to the ground without hesitation.

There were times when Monty could hardly hear the commands being shouted at them, as the gunshots often left his one ear ringing with no end. He wondered at times why they chose to send him to the front lines. Really? Why not Percy? Why did they choose him, a disabled person, over a bunch of people who could hear just fine? Did they really prefer to have a deaf white soldier with a gun over a perfectly able person of colour? Well, not  _ perfectly _ abled, as Percy was still epileptic, but they didn’t know that.

Not that he wanted Percy anywhere  _ near _ the war, dear god, no. He’d rather himself over Percy, but still, it was the principle of the matter.

Now, he hadn’t been sure if he heard the command properly, but he learned not to question any commands when the guy next to him was too slow getting down, then proceeded to be torn apart by bullets. His bloody and lifeless body had collapsed next to Monty and he almost threw up. He knew him. They had a conversation just the previous night. He was new; just got here from England and now he was gone.

He landed on a rock. It wasn’t too big, but it dug into his side uncomfortably.

“Ready!”

Monty quickly got the butt of his rifle into his shoulder, elbows on the ground to steady his aim. Looking along the sight, Monty picked out what looked like an American soldier and put his finger over the trigger.

He hated this. He hated having to kill someone. Kill many someones. People who had homes and families and people who were waiting for them and would cry when they didn’t return.

“Fire!”

He pulled the trigger.

The body collapsed.

“Take cover!”

Monty dropped his rifle, letting it fall the few inches to the ground as he quickly plugged his good ear. He curled up to protect his core and steadied for what could happen.

There was a loud bang and the ground shook, the explosion sending parts of trees, bushes, dirt, grass, and fellow soldiers flying. Stuff and objects came raining down, some lighter, some heavier, landing uncomfortably over his whole body. Blood splattered across his face.

Suddenly his world expanded before narrowing so quickly it made him dizzy.

All he could think about was his leg. Something had fallen hard on it.

A swarm of pain ran from his ankle up past his knee, shooting up through him and he screamed.

His leg felt like it was on fire.

He tried to get it out from under the branch, but it sent more waves of intense pain through him. He screamed again as he struggled. He had to get out, his ankle was twisted painfully and he had to get it out. It wouldn’t stop until it was out. His leg was stuck and there was this  _ noise _ . There was a buzzing fuzzing sound that was so high pitched it was driving him insane. He wrapped his arms around his head, trying desperately as he tried to get it to stop. He needed it to stop. He had to get his leg free. It was hurting hurting hurting and he wanted it to stop. He twisted his body and kicked at the branch, getting it off, before falling off a ledge down a few feet before landing painfully on his back.

 

Suddenly it stopped and it was quiet. Too quiet.

 

It’s not- it’s never- why was it quiet?

 

_ Why was it quiet? _

 

Was he dead?

 

Part of him hoped so.

 

He was shaking.

 

The ground was hard and uncomfortable.

 

He wasn’t dead.

 

His throat was sore.

 

He didn’t stop shouting and screaming.

 

His leg was freed.

 

His body hurt.

 

There were arms around him.

 

He couldn’t breathe.

 

He was crying and shaking and he couldn’t breathe.

 

A hand rubbed his chest.

 

He grabbed the arm, fingers digging to the skin.

 

He didn’t let go.

 

He  _ couldn’t _ let go.

 

He needed to know that there was someone here with him.

 

The arm was warm and clean.

 

Clean.

 

 

Who was bloody  _ clean _ here?

 

Then a rush of images flooded his mind. The war ending. On a ship, heading to England. Being in London. Being home. Seeing Percy. Felicity? Cuddling with Percy.

Was he home? It seemed too hard to imagine. He wanted to be home. God, he wanted to be home.

He wanted to open his eyes, to see if he was home, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know what he would do if it was a dream and he was still in America, fighting for his life. Back in that horrible, bloody massacre where he never knew if he would make it to see the next day.

The hand was still rubbing his chest, calming him down.

He caught his breath just enough for him to breath in, before he started shaking with sobs.

He was pulling into the person’s chest and he buried his face into their shoulder.

He sobbed and cried and shook until there was nothing left inside of him. He felt empty.

It was still silent.

Slowly he tried to make himself pull away or open his eyes to see who was comforting him.

Percy’s extremely concerned face was above his.

Percy barely even had enough time to register that Monty’s eyes were open before Monty threw his arms around his best friend and partner.

A fresh wave of tears escaped him as he realized that he was, indeed, home in England.

Crawling into Percy’s lap, Monty wrapped his legs around his best friend’s torso, hanging on for dear life. He clung to Percy as though he were an illusion that would disappear if he let go. He was terrified that Percy would be gone again.

Eventually, he pulled away to examine Percy’s beautiful face.

Percy’s eyes were wide with concern, fear, and worry, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. Well, Monty didn’t know if they were actually silent, as everything was still silent and he knew for a fact that London was never silent.

Percy’s lips were moving. Monty stared at them for a second before he realized belatedly that he wasn’t hearing any of what Percy was saying.

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted, throat sore and he could imagine how scratchy it sounded from all his screaming and shouting. He pawed at the air next to his missing ear pathetically. “I can’t- I don’t- there’s no-” He couldn’t finish his sentence.

Tears welled in his eyes and he pressed a hand to his eyes to keep them at bay, turning his head away in a pitiful attempt to hide his tears from Percy.

Percy pulled Monty into his embrace, and they sat there on the floor for what seemed like forever before Percy picked him up and climbed into bed.

They lay there, Monty shivering despite how many blankets were draped over him or how tightly Percy held him.

The silence soon turned to a faint white noise.

Monty pushed his face into Percy’s shoulder and let out a whine when the noise became annoying.

Pulling his face away, but not fully letting go, Monty snapped his fingers to his good ear. Well, good given the circumstances, for it was barely there, but he heard it.

Percy was watching carefully and when Monty smiled lightly, he said something quietly.

Monty frowned when he couldn’t hear what was said. “You’re going to speak a bit louder than that, darling. It’s starting to come back, but it’s still not great.”

Percy got a pained expression, but he repeated what he said. “I asked if you’re okay, well, considering…” he paused uncertainly. “You were screaming and thrashing and I didn’t know what to do and I was so scared.” It came out in a rushed breath.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” Monty didn’t know who he was trying to convince, Percy or himself. “Just a nightmare, but it’s okay. I’m used to that. I’m okay.”

Percy frowned. “I don’t want you to be used to having nightmares. I don’t want you to have them in the first place. Though it’s understandable as to  _ why _ you’re having them, I just, oh bloody hell. I was just so scared because you sounded scared. You were also grabbing at your ankle, did something happen?”

Monty’s breath caught as images of being pinned under the heavy branch came flooding forward. “Just got caught. Under a branch. I’m fine.”

Percy frowned. “Monty-”

“Please.” Monty interrupted. “Not now. I just- please?”

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, darling, don’t be sorry. You’re just concerned. It’s sweet. I’m okay.” When Percy still seemed uncertain, he changed the subject. “Let’s try to get some more sleep, okay? I’m still tired.” Trying to lighten the mood, Monty yawned obnoxiously, drawing a chuckle out of Percy. It was a bit too quiet for Monty to hear, but he felt the rumble of Pery’s chest under his own.

When Monty next awoke, he was feeling a considerable amount more rested than he had been in a long time. He lay there for a few minutes before the events of yesterday rushed forward in his memory.

Coming home.

Percy.

Speaking of Percy, he wasn’t there. Monty was in bed alone.

He sat up and looked around, trying to figure out what time it was. After no luck, he debated whether to stay in bed or not, but his desire for a warm - no, hot - cup of tea was calling.

He trudged over to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway, suddenly glad that he decided to get dressed because Felicity and her friend (Joan? No, Johanna? Yeah, Johanna) were sitting at the table with Percy.

Felicity was the first one to notice him. “Monty.”

Feeling incredibly glad to see his sister after such a long time apart, Monty wanted to hug her, so he did. He walked over and sat in the chair next to her, reaching over and pulling her into him.

It wasn’t the intense, desperate clinging of yesterday when he was just overwhelmed at being home again. Instead, it was a light comfortable hold like when Percy and he would just stand in each other’s embrace without doing anything than loving the other.

She had wrapped her arms around him, too, which he was grateful for, for he knew that she wasn’t fond of hugs. After a few moments, she seemed to notice that he had no intention of letting go, she said; “Monty?” and started to pull away a little.

Monty tightened his arms and buried his face in her shoulder.

Eventually, he did let go, though he didn’t go far. He left his knee pressed against hers as he kept looking at her.

“I didn’t know if I’d see you again.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

He couldn’t really hear what she said, but he could make a pretty good guess.

“I just, you left without saying goodbye, and we looked for you, but we couldn’t find you and it felt like a wild goose chase and next thing I know I’m across the Atlantic, fighting a war I never war I never had intention on fighting, and I was just trying to stay alive each day.” He gasped in a breath and kept going. “Every day I was thinking this is it, this is the end for me, cause I’m just a foot soldier sent to do the messy work of killing people who are trying to kill me and one day one of them is going to succeed, but then I’m being sent back and I didn’t even know if Percy was going to be here because it’s been so long and he could’ve moved, and how would I find him, and I assumed I’d have to get to work on trying to find you without having any idea of what you could’ve gotten up to while I was gone, but you’re here and I’m so glad to see you and I just-” he broke off as a sob shook his body.

Next thing he knew, a pair of arms were wrapped around him that was quickly joined by a second set.

After a few minutes, he pulled away, wiping his eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” he struggled to find the right words.

“Hey,” Felicity said softly, putting a hand on his. “Don’t apologize. You went through some really difficult times. Of course you can be angry. Of course you can be upset. Of course you can cry and go on rants.” She got a really sad look that didn’t suit her at all. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”

Monty really wanted to say that it was okay because he hated seeing her upset, but he couldn't dismiss how upset he had been that she just up and left, disappearing, leaving him to wonder if she was okay. He had no idea if he was ever going to see her again, and that genuinely terrified him.

“Is there anything you need?”

“Could I get a cup of tea?” He let out a watery laugh as he brushed away a tear.

The others primped over him, getting up to make him some tea, telling him to ‘just sit and it'll be ready quickly’.

Soon they were all sitting around the table, talking about random things that have no connections to each other and catching up on each other lives while they were separated.

Suddenly there was a loud thud from above them and Monty flinched, spilling his tea. He froze, body tense and eyes squeezed shut as he waited for debris to fall down on them. It would come down at any moment and bury them and they’d get hurt. They could die. They’d get buried an no one would find them. Monty knows this. He’s seen it happen. He’s seen buildings collapse and not being able to find any survivors. The building is going to collapse and-

A hand touches his shoulder and he jumps.

He opens his eyes expecting to see a destroyed city laying in waste around him, but there’s not. His eyes dart around to see that the room he’s in is intact.

He recognizes this room. This is his and Percy’s apartment. Their apartment in London.

Another hand touches him, this time on his chest, snapping him out of examining his surroundings.

Percy’s face is in front of him, eyes wide with worry and suddenly Monty realizes how much he’s shaking, how ragged his breathing is.

He flings himself into Percy, holding him tight, begging this to not be a dream.

When he pulled away, he saw Felicity over Percy's shoulder and she looked just as worried.

“Sorry. Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay, don’t apologize. May I ask what happened?”

“Just,” he let out a quick breath, “the noise sounded like, it sounded like, like when a building would get hit and it’d fall down, trapping people and killing people and I thought we’d get buried and then we’d die and-” he cut himself off before he could get worked up again. “Sorry.”

Percy lightly but firmly grabbed his hands, stilling them from the nervous twisting and wringing he hadn’t even been aware that he’d been doing.

“Do you want to go for a walk? To clear your head?”

Monty nodded quickly, wanting to get out of the house, still half convinced that it was still going to fall down around them.

As they were getting ready, Monty turned to Johanna. “So how long until you girls are off being badass pirates, kicking Platt’s arse?”

Johanna let out a high, startled laugh that cleared the tension in the air. Felicity began to grin devilishly when Johanna started going off about how she was already planning on how to get back to where Platt was last setting sail towards. His sister interjected with her own commentary on how they would get there, and what they would do.

“I can’t believe it’s taking him so long to realize that we can’t be stopped. I mean, come on, just because we’re women doesn’t mean that he can send us home like children at the end of the day.”

“Or,” Johanna interjected, “that we’re better at what we do than he is.”

“He has yet to learn that we are a force not to be reckoned with.”

“Aww, you’ve grown up so much,” Monty cooed, cupping her face in his hands, to which she smacked his hands away, rolling her eyes.

Ignoring her concerned look as she realized that she had hit him after he had multiple moments of panic not too long before, Monty said; “As long as you don’t hop on a ship after pushing me into the water and then not even writing to tell us you’re alive.”

“Never again,” she said with a smile.

Content, Monty turned to Percy, grinning, ready to start adjusting to being home where he was finally safe. He was home with his family, just where he wanted to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! I know I'm no Mackenzi Lee, but I think I did okay!  
> Sorry it seems rushed at parts, I just wanted to keep it short.
> 
> Also, let me know if you want a part two! Whether it takes place after this one, or this fic from a different perspective, etc!


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